Nothing But The Truth
by O'Laugh-a-Lot
Summary: As said in Harry Potter and the HalfBlood Prince, Harry, Ron and Hermione did not return to Hogwarts. What happens when Draco Malfoy appears in Godric's Hollow, apparently with information on Voldemort's Horcruxes? A bit of Romance. Strictly Dramione.
1. Godric's Hollow

**Title: **Nothing But the Truth

**Author: **Draco Malfoy Equals Love

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Harry Potter always knew that he was going to leave Hogwarts to search for the Horcruxes. But his not-so-carefully laid plans could easily be disrupted. And they are, when Draco Malfoy mysteriously appears in Godric's Hollow, offering help and information. What could come of this?

**Pairing: **Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger

**A/N: **This is my first fic, and I really hope you like it. I would like to say that if you don't like the pairing, just get out now. Flames are not welcome.

**Disclaimer: **My imagination is limited. I'm not as genius as J.K. Rowling, no matter how much I want to be. And I'm still broke. -inspects pockets- All I've got to my name is a $19 Jamba Juice gift card that I got because I found a lost dog.

**Chapter One**

**Godric's Hollow**

The wind whistled in the trees, rattling the naked branches. Rain pounded against the roof and windows of the tall, luxurious building. An old sign swung violently in the gale. It was difficult to make out the lettering on it: _Godric's Hollow Bed and Breakfast_, and below it, the attached wording of _NO Vacancy_.  
A dark figure was illuminated by the street lamp near the dirt path leading up to the inn. A hood was pulled up over his head, and the black cloak was clutched about his shoulders. The body shook violently, shivering in the icy downpour. The door to the hotel swung open, and a clerk looked out, holding a lantern aloft. "S'cuse me, sah, but you look frozen to the bone. Surely you won't be staying out there all night!" The man in the rain shook his head slowly and drew a shaking breath before taking a hesitant step toward the building.  
"I hope ya don't mind that y' can't stay the night. There're no rooms available." Again, the hooded figure shook his head, whispering in a fervent tone, and the clerk leaned in to hear. "Pardon?"  
"I don't mind," he said once more. "I only want a cup of tea and perhaps a fire to warm by." The landlord nodded worriedly, staring at the dark figure, startled by the weak tone of voice in which he had worded his request.  
"Of course, come right in."  
The sopping man crossed the threshold and into the light of the warm and cheery fire burning in the grate of the fireplace in the lounge. Shedding his wet cloak, the figure could be seen for what he really was.  
The young man, about the age of seventeen, sat in the armchair closest to the fire and reached out pale and trembling hands to unfreeze them. Wet blond hair fell into his eyes, sticking to his skin; a dramatic change from what the boy's hairstyle normally included; a sleek, combed back appearance. A pale face was faced towards the warmth, cold gray eyes staring absentmindedly into the flame. His thoughts were interrupted by the hotel clerksman saying, "Would you like a drink, sah?" The man shook his head and then looked up.  
"Is there, by any chance, a Harry Potter staying here?" His voice trembled as he said this, wringing his hands together uncomfortably.  
The hotel man thought for a moment, and then his face brightened. "Now that you mention it, a Mr. Harry Potter did check in just two days ago. Are you a friend of 'is?"  
The man by the fire smiled a famous smirk that had regularly crowned his face back in school. "In a manner of speaking, yes. May I have his room number?" This was what he had been waiting for, the chance to show that he wasn't such a bad guy after all. His search had ended.  
The manager shifted uncomfortably. "I suppose it couldn't harm. Here you are." He scribbled a number down on a scrap of paper, handing it to the young man. "237. Good luck, sah."  
Snatching the piece of paper, he stood up, bowing a bit in thanks. In a rush of pounding feet, he dashed up the stairs, swiftly traversing the two flights between him and Potter. Hogwarts had assisted him well in this respect. He jogged continuously down the halls, checking each room number as he passed, his cold limbs forgotten. At long last, he reached the door and stood there, catching his breath and gathering up his courage. What a surprise it would be for Harry to find his arch enemy on his doorstep. Raising a fist, Draco Malfoy knocked on Harry Potter's door.

Laughter could be heard from within the room. The door swung open, revealing an astonished Hermione Granger. "Malfoy!" she cried, staggering backward. Her bushy brown hair whooshed behind her. "What in the hell are you doing here?" Her hand traveled to her pocket in blinding speed, whipping out the wand that she was so skilled with.

His trademarked smirk slipped onto his face yet again. "What a lovely welcome, Granger. Some way to greet your old friends." He gestured into the room then gasped, clutching his left arm, face contorted in pain. "Mind letting me in?" he said through gritted teeth. Without waiting for an answer, he pushed his way inside.

A pained grin appeared on his handsome features at the astonished look on Hermione's. A strangled yell sounded from further in the room, and he was contradicted by Harry Potter, the boy's wand thrust in his face. "Relax, Potty, Weasel." He drew his wand, watching Harry tense as he did so, and dropped it to the floor, then stepped over it, leaving it for Hermione to pick up. She did, watching him carefully. "I came to help."

He sat on the edge of one of the three beds shoved inside the small room, lifted his sleeve on his left arm, revealing a now-black Dark Mark. A sharp intake of breath and a whispered, "I told you so!" showed Draco that Potter had guessed right, obviously, some time ago. He knew that they would jump to conclusions, but frankly, he didn't give a damn. He was truly there to help, and he knew it, even if they wouldn't believe him.

"Help with wh—"Draco cut her off.

"Before you get all worked up about it, I'll prove it to you. As long as you have a Veritaserum, of course, which I'm sure you do. After all, I would think that you lot would carry such a potion on you at all time." Draco flopped back on the bed, running a thin hand through his pale hair.

Hermione frowned, and tried again. "Help with what?"

A thin smile appeared across his face for a brief moment. "I am only here to help you if you're looking for the Dark Lord's Horcruxes. If you aren't, then I suppose I'll just leave." He continued rubbing the Dark Mark branded on his arm as it continued to sear. His white shirt was beginning to dry in the intense heat of the fire in the small room, and he rolled up the sleeves and unbuttoned two from the top. "Well, are you? I don't want my information to be useless." He twirled a finger in the air, his elbow planted on the bed. It occurred to him how much he was confusing the three of them; it wasn't like a Malfoy to just show up on someone's doorstep—especially that on an enemy—and offer help against the man who he had been supporting for the last year of his life. In fact, it wasn't like a Malfoy to even offer help to anyone—anyone other than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. An odd night it was.

Draco became acutely aware of the silence in the room. Raising his head, he stared back at the three young people staring incredulously at him. "Well, are you, or shall I just leave?" This sent Harry into action.

"You're not going anywhere, Malfoy. We're not about to let you go and spill our position to Voldemort,"—Ron visibly flinched—"not when we can get some information out of you!" His voice was thick with anger, and his recognizable green eyes were blazing.

The boy on the bed simply laughed; a rare occurrence. "I am completely at your mercy, and yet I do not seem nervous. I have nothing to hide from you." The Malfoy heir sighed, pausing for breath, then finished. "So put your bloody wand down!" Surprisingly, the three lowered their wands, but still kept them clenched in tight fists. "Now about that information," he reached up to scratch his earlobe, "we should really get a move on."

_These bloody Gryffindors really don't get it, _thought Draco, as Ron spurt out:

"You were in You-Know-Who's plan to kill Dumbledore. Why should we trust you?"

A tiny chuckle passed Draco's lips. "Because I have what you need," he said simply. Straightening, he stared at them coldly. "And surely, Weasley, Potter told you that I was forced into the plot to kill the old man? I may have disliked him, but I knew that he was the only one that could protect Potter. As much as I hate you, Potter, I knew that if you were killed, the Dark Lord would rise twice as powerful, and I'd have no choice but to join him. I must admit, I would much rather have the Dark Lord dead and have a free life than have him alive and be a slave to him." Finished with his rant of explanation, he leaned back again. He stifled a laugh at the incredulous looks on the trio's faces.

With a sigh of resignation, Harry sat back in a chair. "All right, Malfoy. You're in." He tugged a small glass bottle from inside his robes, which he still wore from the day's excursions. Passing it to Ron, who passed it to Hermione, who passed it to Draco, he said, "Drink up!" His voice was still thick with disbelief.

In mere seconds, Draco had downed the few drops that would be sufficient to have him tell the truth. A blank look overtook his features, and he slouched on the bed, staring directly ahead. Harry's voice gently prodded the edges of his thoughts.

"Malfoy, can you hear me?" He nodded absentmindedly, his gaze clouding; his vision was blocked by a haze of blur. The shapes looming around him were mere splotches of color. Harry's voice cut through again. "Tell me, why are you here?"

As he answered, his voice came out low, toneless. "I came to give you information."

"What kind of information?"

"I came to tell you where the Dark Lord's Horcruxes are. He has told me of them, and where they lie, and what they—"

"Shut-up, Malfoy. I get the point. Now, tell me where the locket is."

Draco shook his head. "The Dark Lord has no reason to suspect that it is not in the Cave where you found the fake. Regulus Black has it, as far as my mother has told me."

The nod of Harry's head was barely visible. He went on. "And Hufflepuff's cup?"

This continued on for nearly an hour, with Harry questioning and Draco tonelessly replying. At last, the inquiries were nearly completed. Only one question remained, Harry having asked the whereabouts of the four Horcruxes that were known and remained undestroyed. There was one last question. "What is the seventh Horcrux?"

The potion was beginning to wear off, and Draco could realize what he was saying. He dreaded the answer slipping from his mouth, but it did. "You are." The clatter of a glass falling to the floor and shattering broke the silence in the small room as Harry fainted, the half-full goblet of butterbeer slipping from his limp fingers.


	2. Homecoming Surprise

Chapter two

Draco woke the next morning stretched out on a carpeted floor, lying on his stomach in the corner of the pleasantly warm hotel room. The others were sleeping in their own beds, having dragged Harry into his at midnight, he being still unconscious. Ron had reluctantly thrown Draco a blanket and pillow and had promptly fallen asleep, leaving Draco the floor. The curtains were blocking the sun at the window, but the frame of light showed him that it was around mid-morning.

Raising his head, he stared around at the room, looking at each of the still-sleeping forms in turn. Hermione let out a vocal sigh as she woke, and Draco's gray gaze fell upon her. He had to admit, the young Muggle-born had caught his attention when she had opened the door to him the previous night. He found it hard to wrench his gaze away, but he did so when her deep brown eyes fluttered open. He rolled over quickly so she wouldn't suspect him of staring.

"G'morning, Malfoy." Her soft whisper caught his attention. Draco rolled back onto his stomach, staring up at her. She had crawled to the foot of her bed and was looking down at him. "Listen, Malfoy, I want to tell you something before the others wake up." He stared at her, confused. "Thanks for helping us. It was really brave and nice of you." Her cheeks turned light pink, and she crept back under her sheets.

Draco smiled sadly at her. His whisper of, "Thanks," barely left his lips. Turning over again, he lay on his side, staring at the whitewashed wall.

It was nearly an hour before Ron and Harry woke, groaning and shifting in the soft hotel beds. Draco lay still as they slammed about in the bathroom, going through their morning routines. Hermione sat on her bed, twiddling her thumbs. She had changed earlier (Draco had made a point of covering his eyes as she did so) and was totally ready for her day, while Draco, having nothing else to wear, simply waited for a shower to be available.

After waiting almost twenty minutes for Ron to get out of the bathroom, Draco became impatient. "Hey Granger, do they always take this long?"

Hermione chuckled, saying, "Only on good days. Most of the time they take longer." Draco stared at her. She shrugged.

He sat up against the television cabinet, which had been open almost since the trio had gotten to the hotel, so Granger had told him. Harry and Ron had been fascinated with the moving pictures generated by electricity, and had watched the different channels almost non-stop for the three days that they had been in Godric's Hollow, except, of course, when they had gone to visit Harry's parent's graves. Obviously Hermione had told Draco the entire story of their excursion that had begun directly after Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour's wedding, including the brief visit to Number Four Privet Drive.

At long last, Ron trudged out of the bathroom, clutching a towel around his waist, dripping with steam. Draco leapt up, nodded his brief thanks to Weasley, and then slipped into the wet and hot bathroom. Snatching a towel from the rack by the door, he dropped it on the floor close to the shower. He tugged on the faucet to send the hot water running then stripped his dirty, old clothes. He relished the first shock of the hot water on his mucky skin, enjoying the sight of brown water zipping down the drain.

His shower was far shorter than Ron's, lasting about ten minutes. Stepping out of it, dripping but content, his hair flattened around his eyes, he grinned at his foggy reflection in the mirror. He could barely recognize himself; it had been so long since he had seen a mirror that he had almost forgotten what he looked like. His cold gray eyes seemed dead in his face, his cheekbones high and outlined from loss of fat everywhere on his body. Toned muscles, worn from traveling, gave his pinkish skin form, but other than that he was skin and bones. Draco stared at himself, unable to wrench his eyes away. Slowly, his eyes locked with his reflection's, he took his towel and wrapped it around his middle.

Stepping out of the bathroom, the air seemed far colder than it had before. The slight breeze drifting in through the window that was slit open a crack stung his skin and made him shiver. "Mind closing that damn window?" Harry glared at him and shoved it shut. As Draco went about dressing, crouching in the closet for privacy, Harry drilled him with questions.

"Are you positive that I'm the Horcrux?" He sat on the bed, facing the window, staring out into the streaming sunlight.

Draco nodded. "I am, unless the Dark Lord lied to me, which I doubt." He emerged from the closet, fully clothed. "For some odd reason, he trusts me, which he won't anymore." He shook his head. "Anyway, I think he made you his last Horcrux to make a problem for you. It's the obvious answer."

He plopped down on the bed, watching Harry carefully. The dark-haired, green-eyed boy did nothing but stare at his socks. Draco shrugged, then lay back, staring at the smooth white ceiling. The blonde looked up as Harry spoke again.

"Well, he certainly has created a problem for me. I either die and someone else can kill Voldemort"—Ron flinched again—"or I don't die and Voldemort lives forever." Draco's eyes traveled from Harry's face to Hermione's, for the look on her features was heart-breaking. The bushy-haired girl crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, looking sadly at Harry. In a sudden movement, she embraced him, and before any of the boys knew what was happening, she was sobbing into Harry's robes.

Ron and Draco could only stare for a moment, before Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione as well. Feeling left out, Draco left the foot of the bed to stand by the window. "Crying won't do any of us much good, Granger." Hermione glared at him. "Of course, it does some good, I suppose," he amended quickly.

Ron growled. "You're learning, Malfoy. Now," he said, turning to Harry, "we need a plan." Hermione resurfaced, wiping her eyes, her face red.

"Ooh, I only wish we had some library to look into! Without something like it, were doom—"Harry scowled at her.

"Shut up, Hermione. You're not helping."

"Sorry," she squeaked.

Draco turned around, his gray eyes flashing. "She's right, Potter. It's the only way. We have to get some background information on Horcruxes. I _believe_ that my father knows a bit about them—at least, there's a book about them in his personal library back at the Manor. We should go there."

Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at him. "Since when did this become, 'we'? You're not coming with us, are you?" Ron voiced, raising an eyebrow at Draco.

"I don't think you could very well get into my father's library without me, you dunderheads!"

"Oh, right." Ron looked sheepish, but he glared at Hermione, who was looking admiringly at Draco. Squirming uncomfortably under her warm gaze, Draco clapped his hands. "Shall we go then?"

Harry stared at him. "What, now?" Draco nodded.

"No time to lose, Potter. But we'll need to go in pairs. There's no way I'm hanging on tight to one of you two"—he gestured to Harry and Ron—"so I'll take Granger, I suppose." He held out his arm, which she reluctantly took. With a quick turn, the two young heroes Disapparated.

With a small _pop_, Draco and Hermione arrived just outside enormous brass gates. They stood still for a brief moment, until Draco realized that he still had his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She was staring at him in disgust, and in response he pulled his arm back. "Sorry," he muttered. She shrugged and turned back to the gates. Just past them, a huge white manor was visible, rising above sloping lawns and lush gardens.

"This is where you _live_, Malfoy?" Draco spun around, staring at the new arrivals. Harry and Ron had just Apparated in, and both were staring up at the Malfoy house.

Draco shook his head bitterly at Ron, who had just spoken. "I _lived_ here. I was forced to move, since both the Ministry of Magic and the Dark Lord is after my blood. Now I just move from hotel to hotel." He grinned wryly. "Well," he gestured at the house, "shall we?" He stepped forward, walking up the cobblestone walkway that led to the brass barriers. The others reluctantly followed as he approached the knocker on the gate. Without hesitation, Draco knocked, the huge brass hoop banging against the gate in a melodic fashion. Harry and Ron jumped as a tiny voice spoke, seemingly coming from the knocker.

"Owner identified: Draco Malfoy. Welcome home, Mr. Malfoy." Draco bowed as the gates swung open. His face lit up as he bounded through the gates, onto his luscious grounds.

"Oh it's good to be home!" He nearly skipped across the lawns, the others following meekly in his wake. It was a Draco they had never seen before.

The house was growing nearer, the whitewashed and painted sides growing more defined, until the ornate designs along the trim was visible. It was obviously and old and inherited house that had been passed down through generations of stuck-up, rich and snobby Malfoys. As they rounded the corner of the house, polished oaken doors stood before them, which Draco through open with a joyous squeak. His yelp of happiness was cut short by a pale hand around his throat.

"Welcome home, son. I see you've brought some friends out to play." The slow, menacing drawl of Lucius Malfoy echoed through the entrance hall as he emerged from the shadows behind the door, his hand tight around his son's throat.


	3. A Moment of Pain

**A/N**: So sorry I haven't updated in so long! This chapter's been written for a while. I hope you all like it!

**Disclaimer**: Oh dear how I wish I was J.K. Rowling...but even _I'm_ not that brilliant. Which means I am...broke. Damn.

**Chapter three**

Panic gripped him, adrenaline engulfing his senses. He stood deathly still, eyes fixed fearfully on his father. As Lucius threw his head back and laughed, his fingers sub-consciously tightened around Draco's throat. Stealing a glance behind him, Draco saw Hermione standing still, eyes wide in shock, flanked by a bewildered Ron. Harry, however, was lunging forward, drawing his wand as he did so.

"SCUM! YOU WILL DIE, LUCIUS MAFLOY!" Harry roared, his eyes blazing with anger and grief. Draco stared sadly at Harry as Lucius casually pulled his wand from his pocket. With a lazy flick, Harry was thrust backward, flipping through the air and landing hard on the lawns nearly twenty feet away. It was Ron's turn to explode. Hermione shot him a look before he went off and did the exact same thing that Harry had just done. Ron satisfied himself with a nasty glance and a rude hand-gesture before he ran off to help Harry to his feet.

Hermione walked forward slowly, her hand straying inconspicuously to her skirt pocket. "Malfoy," she said coldly, carefully extracting her wand from her pocket. It was hidden in the folds of her skirt, and only Draco, having been released from the deadly grip and was now standing by his father's side, wincing and rubbing his throat. Lucius held him in a headlock as a precaution as the two Malfoys watched the advancing Hermione. Ron was helping a limping Harry in the background, the trio slowly approaching the manor and the Malfoys.

Harry panted, "You planned this, didn't you Malfoy? You planned it ALL! You and your scum of a father found some way to trick the potion. YOU'RE A BLOODY LIAR, DRACO MALFOY!" The raven-haired boy collapsed, panting. Tears streamed down his dirty face, and a long, thin scratch ran along the side of his cheek. Lucius' arm tightened around his throat as Harry accused him of double-crossing.

"No, I'm not! I swear, Potter," Draco gasped, fighting for breath. He fought Lucius off him. "I hate you," he panted, his face flushed and blotchy. "I hate you, Father. You ruined my life. Not anymore. I won't have it. I won't!" Lucius sneered at his son, but Draco caught a glimmer of fear in his father's eyes. "_Avada Kedavra!_" A brilliant flash of green light erupted from his wand and Lucius Malfoy collapsed. He was dead. Draco crashed to his knees, tears pouring from his eyes as he kneeled above his father's body. "I did the right thing, Father. I know I did."

Draco slipped sideways, pulling his knees up to his chest, sobbing brokenly into his robes. A warm arm slipped around him, and he recoiled from the touch, but soon returned to Hermione's forgiving arms. Lying on the porch, Draco cried his heart out next to his father's dead body.

XXXX

It was several hours before Draco found the will power to drag himself away from Lucius' corpse. He made his way up to his old room, where he found the trio waiting for him. Embarrassed of his red, puffy eyes, Draco ducked into the bathroom. He could hear soft murmurings from his room. He knew they were Potter and Weasley talking about him, with Hermione just staring straight ahead. When he returned to his bedroom, he found that exact scene. As he walked in, Hermione broke her gaze away from the fireplace and transferred it to him. He hung his head.

"Draco," she said softly. He was shocked—she hadn't called him Malfoy. "Draco, I'm sorry you had to do that. But I'm glad you did."

He nodded sadly. She opened her arms, offering a hug. Draco did nothing for a moment, then sank onto the bed next to her and let her embrace him. He was thoroughly confused, but he had to say that he was pleased. Ron and Harry pointedly looked away. Harry finally cleared his throat after several moments. Hermione released him and straightened up, blushing.

There were a few moments of silence, and then Harry spoke. "Thanks for…doing what you did. I—I'm sorry I accused you of lying." Draco could only nod.

Hermione looked as though she was on the brink of tears. Obviously the journey had been emotionally taxing as well as physically.

Willing the awkwardness to die away, Draco spoke again. "Erm….So I guess I'll show you to the library? That is, if it'll let me in. The magic on this house is strange. I don't know whether the protections on the study have died with Fa—" he paused, deciding that Lucius could barely be called a father "—er, Lucius or whether they're still in place." He paused, and then felt utterly exhausted. Though he had just slept a bit, the emotions coursing through him made him feel like a girl suffering from PMS. He knew what that was like, living around Pansy his entire life. He learned one thing from that—Slytherin girls are bitches when they're hormonal.

Ron spoke for the first time since they'd gotten to Malfoy Manor. "How about a rest, eh? I could go for sleeping." Harry and Hermione nodded automatically.

Draco got to his feet." You can sleep in the guest bedrooms. We have four, so choose one each. They're all down the hall. Just don't sleep in my parents' room. It's the last one on the right." He ushered them from his room and fell back on his bed and a tear leaked down his cheek. It fell onto his pillow, and the last thing he felt before falling asleep was a soft, feminine hand brushing his hair out of his eyes.

When Draco awoke, moonlight was streaming into his room through the curtains. He was oddly warm—in his memory, his back silk sheets didn't retain that much warmth. He rolled over and nearly screamed in shock. Hermione was curled up on the other side of his bed, her beautiful face set in repose. It took most of Draco's self-restraint to keep from kissing her. He took a deep breath and just lay there, inspecting her features. His eyes trailed down her body, as the sheets melded with her curves, and he was shocked to see her chocolate brown eyes staring teasingly at him. He scrambled backward, almost falling off the bed.

"Hi Draco." She just said it. There was no teasing nature, no "Haha-I-just-caught-you-checking-me-out" tone in her voice. It was just a statement.

"H-hey, Granger. Care to explain to me why you're in my bed?" he stuttered, still staring at her in shock.

"Come on, Draco. I've started calling you by your given name, can't you at least return the favor?" She giggled in a most un-Hermione-ish way. Draco's mouth unhinged and he stared, open-mouthed at the bushy-headed girl in front of him. "And to answer your question, I was in your bed because you looked sad and lonely. So I decided to keep you company."

A burning feeling of self-pity roiled in Draco's gut. "I don't need _you_ feeling sorry for me, Granger. I feel bad enough as it is."

Hermione's giggly smile slipped from her face like rain down a window. "Sorry I care, _Malfoy._" She huffed and turned around, storming out of the room.

Draco mentally smacked himself, and called after her, but she was already gone. He sighed and fell back on his bed, deciding to get a little more sleep before the long day that would certainly come tomorrow.

**A/N:** DUN DUN DUN. -le semi-lame-cliffhanger-


	4. Let's Get Started

**A/N:** Amazing! -applauds self- Two updates in one day! Granted, this chapter's incredibly short, but I thought that since I need 6,000 words to become a Beta, I'd post as much as I can! So here's the fourth chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed and named this as a favorite story. It's you guys who fuel me.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter...no matter how much I want to.

Chapter Four

Draco was right. The morning came early for him, pale sunlight streaming onto his face, piercing through his eyelids. Upon opening his eyes, he saw the sky outside his window was full of clouds, but the rain had stopped. Blinking blearily, he pushed back his silk sheets. He rubbed his eyes as he proceeded to his bathroom, where he looked dazedly at his reflection. His eyes were blurry and they were shadowed by dark circles. His bare chest was pale and plain. What caught his attention was the angry red mark around his throat. He touched it gently, rage boiling in his chest.

He pulled his wand from the counter where he had left it the night before and cast a brief concealing charm. Satisfied, he turned his attention to his hair. It was well past his ears, and he had never liked it too long. A quick, clean severing charm brought the length back to just above his eyes.

"Malfoy! Get your arse out here. We've got a long day ahead of us."

Draco opened his bedroom door to see a disheveled Hermione glaring impatiently at him.

"Tsk, such language, Granger. I would hardly expect such vulgar words to escape your mouth."

Her perfect brown eyes narrowed, and he immediately regretted his words. "Granger, I—"

He could see her resisting her urge to slap him, and instead stormed away, out of the hallway. Draco watched her go with a growing feeling of gloom. He sighed and turned back into his room to get a clean shirt.

XXX

Draco came into the cavernous kitchens of his manor to find the Golden Trio already huddled around a small table in the center. A house elf approached him and bowed, but he waved his hand to dismiss it.

"So, made yourself comfortable in my kitchens, have you?" he said by way of greeting.

The trio looked up. Hermione glared at him and went back to the steaming mug of tea between her hands. A pang of regret stabbed Draco's heart, but he ignored it and turned his gaze to Ron.

"You told us to make ourselves at home, so we did," he protested.

"Mind you, it took us about an hour to find this place." Harry looked as though he was about to laugh. Draco glared at him.

"These are my kitchens. When I was at home, I practically lived in here. So I would appreciate it if you would not mess it up."

"Oh, you cook, Draco?" Hermione spoke up at last, looking at him with interest in his eyes.

"Yes," he replied coldly, thinking she was making fun of him.  
"No need to be so rude, Malfoy. I was just wondering."

Draco swore to himself that by the time something went right with he and Hermione, he would be mentally bludgeoned to death.

"What are we doing today?" he asked, mostly forgetting why they were at his home anyway. The fact that he had killed his father the day previously had pushed it out of his mind.

"We're going through your library, to see if there're any books on Horcruxes." Hermione looked positively giddy with excitement. She hadn't even seen his library yet, and she was still looking forward to it.

"Right. Well, I guess I'll have a house elf bring breakfast up. Shall we?" Draco gestured to the door. Harry, Ron and Hermione got to their feet and crossed the large kitchen to stand by the door.

"I'll take two pieces of toast and a glass of orange juice. Thank you," Draco said to the kitchen at large. A pair of house elves immediately came out of a door and began fixing his breakfast. "We'll be in the library."

Hermione was watching him, her eyes blazing with some implacable emotion. Draco squirmed, uncomfortable under her scorching gaze. He took the lead and led them all up a flight of stairs to the left of the kitchen. Draco pushed open a door on the right of a long hallway. Hermione gasped.

"Oh my--!"

Walls and walls of books were displayed in a massive room, and shelves lines the perimeter. A locked gate led into what looked like a close replica of the Hogwarts library Restricted Section. Several green armchairs clustered around a fireplace, with side tables carrying enchanted flames to see by.

Draco glanced sideways at Hermione. She was staring around, dazed.

"Gryffindork Know-It-All Heaven, eh, Granger?"

"Oh, Draco!" Her voice was light and airy, sending a tingling feeling up Draco's spine. She reached out and gripped Ron's hand and Draco's pleasant feeling dropped away immediately. He ignored the creature snarling and hissing in his mind and gestured toward the gated section.

"This is where we'll find information about Horcruxes. It's my father's restricted section. Even I've never been in it before." He led the Trio toward the gate. He heard Ron speak from behind him.

"How do we know you won't lock—"

"Ron, shut up. He just killed his own father. He's on our side, you dolt." Draco was surprised that Harry spoke before he even turned around.

"Thank you, Potter," he said quietly, taking a larger step forward. He placed his finger on the gate and it immediately dissolved away. "Quickly," He stepped through, pausing halfway through. Harry led the Trio through and Hermione followed. Ron hesitated, but Draco shoved him through. "You git," he muttered angrily.

Hermione was busy looking around, her eyes wide with mingled disgust and interest. The restricted section was possibly grander, since it was where Lucius had spent most of his time, but the books residing on the shelves were clearly more gruesome. The room was quite smaller than the outer library, but still large enough to give them several days' worth of research. Draco sighed, leaning against the walls. "I'll leave it to Granger to lead us, then?"

The girl turned around, clapping her hands together. She whipped out her wand and conjured several rolls of parchment and spare quills. There was a strange glint in her eye as she spoke. "Gladly."

**A/N:** I told you it was short! The next one will be longer, I promise!


	5. Unexpected Assistance

**A/N: **Well this is slightly embarrassing...I haven't updated in literally two years. o.O so sorry! No one probably reads this...but I felt like updating it, even with such a short chapter, as I am wont. I can't manage to write chapters much longer, since I have such a short attention span! I hope you enjoy this, but don't expect an update any time soon...I don't actually know what I'm planning on doing with this story, no clue where I'm going to go with it. Now that Deathly Hallows is out (and my theory of Harry as the seventh Horcrux proven correct, by the way!) I have to avoid using the information we now know about Horcruxes if I can, so it's more original than just writing basically the same story with some tiny twists...it'll be a challenge that I probably will never finish. But hey, why not enjoy for the time being! Why is the author's note so long?

**Disclaimer:** I think I'm even more broke than before, therefore I'm not earning money off this pathetic excuse for a fan fiction.

**Chapter Five**

"'Mione, can we please take a break?"

"Ronald, do you want to save Harry's life or not?"

"Of course I do, but…come on, even Harry's willing to take a break, right?"

Harry looked up from his book. "Yeah, a break would be nice. We've been at this for hours."

Draco hid a smile behind his book at Hermione's indignant expression. She let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. We'll break for lunch. But then we really have to get back here!"

A small chuckle left Draco's lips and the Trio turned to look at him. He raised his eyebrows. "What?"

Ron narrowed his eyes. "What was that chuckle for, Malfoy?"

"I was just laughing at Granger. She thinks it's only time for lunch."

"What?" said Hermione crossly.

"By my watch," Draco explained, "it's past dinner time."

Ron let out a whine. "I've never missed a meal before unless I was physically hurt! 'Mione, you kept us at this through lunch! No wonder my stomach feels like it shrunk to the size of a peanut."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you'll get over it, Ronald."

Harry laughed. "Either way, it's past time for a break."

Draco led the way back through the house and down to the kitchens. He greeted the house-elf already preparing dinner. "Thank you, Marci," he said. "We'll take it in the dining room, if you wouldn't mind." The house-elf bowed low as he whisked past her.

Hermione caught up to him as he passed through the doors into the spacious dining room. She was looking at him with the same, strange look as she had that morning. "Yes?" he said softly, raising an eyebrow.

"I never knew you were so kind to house-elves," she said breathlessly.

"I bet there's a lot of stuff you don't know about me, Granger," he replied, not unkindly. She looked angry for a moment then let it pass. There was silence between them for moment, but then Draco moved forward to settle into his usual chair at the long table, which was set with silver cutlery. Hermione hesitated, then sat beside him. Harry and Ron, still discussing what they had found, took the seats closest to them on the opposite side of the table. Hermione joined in the conversation, but Draco stayed quiet, anxious. There was a sense of foreboding hanging over his mind and his gaze darted to both doors within his range of sight.

_Bang!_

"Draco Malfoy!"

Draco leaped to his feet, nearly pushing the chair over in his haste. He knew that voice, and his wand was in his hand before he had completely straightened his spine. He felt the Trio move behind him, more slowly.

Narcissa Malfoy stood in a doorway on the opposite wall of the dining room. She bore a stern look upon her sharp features. "Draco Malfoy, put your wand away. I'm here to help."

Draco's hand twitched and he lowered his wand, but he did not put it away.

"Why are you here, Mother?"

"Didn't I just say? I'm here to help Potter."

Draco spluttered. "But—but, hang on—you—?" He trailed into silence, then organized his thoughts enough to say, "How did you find us?"

Narcissa smirked, looking remarkably like Draco. "I'm surprised you didn't know. Then again, you never paid attention to anything your father told me. I found out that your father died, and that someone killed him, and it could only have been you. So I came as soon as I could."

"How did you find out he died?"

Narcissa sighed exasperatedly. "It's old bonding magic—once upon a time, when Lucius and I were young, part of the bonding ceremony was to exchange blood. This gave us the ability to know when the other was mortally injured, killed, or had killed. So, I just felt yesterday that he'd been killed here."

Draco's mouth hung open. He immediately felt guilt rising up within him, but Narcissa shook her head. "Draco, don't feel bad. We're both free now. I'm tired of serving the Dark Lord, and I know you are too. Of course, why else would you have brought the Abominable Trio into our home?" The woman put on a winning smile, and Draco rushed to hug her.

"Draco," a voice behind him said, just as he felt the comfort of his mother's arms closed around him. He recognized Hermione's soft tone and pulled away to look at her. "How do we know we can trust her?" Her words were guarded, and her eyes were fixed on Narcissa.

He flushed angrily. "She's my mother, of course we can trust her! You trust me, don't you?" Ron looked uncomfortable at this, but Harry and Hermione nodded.

"But we only trusted you on one condition, remember? Veritaserum," Harry reminded him.

Narcissa nodded her head. "Of course. I'll gladly answer questions under Veritaserum."

She regally placed herself in the chair at the end of the table as Hermione rummaged in her pockets for the vial of clear liquid. Upon administering it, Harry promptly began the questioning.

"Why are you here?" he started, his face directly in front of Narcissa's.

"To help Draco help you," she said simply.

Harry looked startled to hear this simple answer. He cleared his throat and continued, shooting a glance towards Hermione.

"And why did you stop supporting Voldemort?"

"I never did," Narcissa replied. "It was always Lucius who was really the supporter of the Dark Lord, but since I loved him at the time, I was willing—and I was expected to—join up as well."

Draco watched Harry's eyes widen and Hermione's eyebrows shoot up into her hair. Ron was still glaring at Narcissa, distrust in his entire facial expression. There was a long, tense silence, but Narcissa seemed perfectly relaxed. At last, Harry pushed back his chair, and sighed resignedly.

"I guess we have no choice but to believe you." Ron looked as though he was about to protest, but Hermione put a hand on his hand across the table. Draco felt an inexplicable rush of anger at the sight of their automatic ease with each other. When Ron returned his gaze to the witch next to him, the anger was replaced by a jealous flash as he saw the warmth in the Weasel's blue eyes.

Narcissa looked smug, giving a perfect Malfoy smirk, but emotion actually reached her eyes. "Well then, I imagine you're looking for information on Horcruxes?"

Again, shock appeared on the Trio's faces, and Hermione couldn't stop Ron in time.

"How do you know about that? Why are you really here? Harry, we can't trust her, she's a Malfoy, she was married to that git and—"

"Enough!" Harry held up his hand, his green eyes flashing. "We've already been over this, Ron, we have to trust her. And obviously Voldemort's Horcruxes aren't exactly a secret anymore among the Death Eaters. So shut your mouth and pay attention!"

Ron's eyes were wide and shocked, staring at his best friend. Hermione was looking away from both of them, and Draco watched them with a small smirk on his face. _It's about time Potter took charge of this operation._

"Potter is right," Narcissa replied, effectively hiding her amusement at the red-headed boy's outburst and Harry's sudden power. "Lucius was very dear to the Dark Lord, he knew almost everything about his Horcruxes. Naturally he told Draco and me, that's how I know." She drew herself up with dignity and stood.

"If you'll follow me." She gestured toward the door to the dining hall.

Harry was the first one out of his chair, still looking slightly wary but determined to see this through. Ron followed, glowering. Finally, with a furtive look at Draco, Hermione stood and moved toward the others. Draco merely watched her go, then stared at the plate in front of him. A soft hand dropped onto his shoulder, and he looked up to see his mother standing over him. His eyes began to glisten with tears, his mind on his father and what he had done to Lucius. He shut his eyes tight, but a tear slipped out anyway, hot and salty down his cheek. Narcissa drew him up and wrapped him in her embrace, and he let out a quiet sob. He didn't care that the others were watching, he could only think of his guilt and his relief that his mother was safe and with him. Her soft hand ran up and down his back, reminding him of his childhood when she would comfort him after he endured listening to a shouting match between her and Lucius, and he sobbed harder.

"Er, we'll be out in the hall," Harry said softly, looking stricken. Ron wasn't watching, already turned toward the door. Hermione looked absolutely torn, but she moved out of the room with Harry and Ron.

"It's alright, Draco, you did the right thing, dear. It's alright, it's okay, shh…" Narcissa's soothing voice eventually calmed Draco, and his shame returned in a rush.

He pulled away from his mother, wiping his eyes on his sleeve and sniffling a bit. "I'm glad you're here, I was so worried…" he trailed off, his voice hoarse. Narcissa gave him a small smile, then ushered him towards the door.

"I'm glad I'm here too, dear. It's time we ended this and went back to a free life."

Draco squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked out of the room, facing the Golden Trio, leaving behind his mistakes and regrets.

Ron whined, as Narcissa led them to Lucius' private rooms, "We still haven't eaten yet!"


End file.
